Facing an Ancient God for a Year - Chapter 127

Chapter 127: Chapter 126: The Hunter’s Thirst for Blood (End)_1

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Chen Xing’s sighs were difficult to tell if they were genuine or not.

After all, many people deceive even themselves in order to feel at ease.

Fortunately, Chen Xing quickly finished his reflections and looked up at Fu Qian with a determined expression.

“Even so, your words still can’t be verified, and I will only fulfill the subsequent agreement with Deng Feizhou.”

“That’s between you and him; I’m just entrusted to pass the message to you,”

Fu Qian replied with an indifferent tone.

“Very well.”

Chen Xing nodded, seemingly very satisfied with Fu Qian’s response.

“Try not to come here for the time being, Chen Feizhou will contact you when appropriate.”

Fu Qian stood up from his chair and started to walk outside.

“I’ve delivered the message, and I have my own mission, so I’ll take my leave now—Who’s there!”

Mid-sentence, Fu Qian abruptly looked toward the direction of the door.

Someone there?

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Fu Qian’s reaction startled Chen Xing as well, who immediately followed his gaze, but saw nothing.

Not only that, his senses also detected nothing.

Not right!

Realizing something, Chen Xing swiftly turned around.

And his chest and abdomen were already struck by a strong gust!

…

Often, the simplest tricks are the most effective.

For instance, the old “look, there’s a plane” trick; with the right timing and performance, it can always fool someone.

Fu Qian had first shown his form, then expressed disinterest in the cooperation, promptly passed the message, and decided to leave—all these actions lowered Chen Xing’s guard to the absolute minimum.

Then, with the simplest of tricks, he shifted his attention.

Facing this fleeting opportunity, Fu Qian didn’t hesitate to initiate an attack.

As of now, it seemed that directly killing this demigod was the only way to complete his mission.

It was a formidable challenge, but not entirely impossible.

From earlier tests, the effects of the Skill in Mythical Form basically allowed the next hit to possess demigod-level power and form.

That is to say, he could certainly achieve a demigod level in attacking.

If he could take the initiative, killing a demigod was not out of the question.

Of course, the cost was also enormous.

Using Mythical Form even once was equivalent to risking one’s own life.

In fact, now that he had his target locked on, restarting and going after Chen Xing directly, hoping to kill him before his promotion, was also a tactic to consider.

Considering the cost was just 1 SAN Point, it was likely to be even more economical in terms of probability.

But that wasn’t his style—real men face challenges head-on!

Mythical Form! Air Bullet!

Fu Qian made his move, clean and efficient.

He chose the Air Bullet as his method of attack, the one with the smallest motion and most concealment.

Because he had just stood up from his chair, the distance between the two was only about a meter.

By the time Chen Xing reacted, the Air Bullet in demigod form was already blasting in front of him.

“Overestimating yourself!”

In the face of the lethal move, Chen Xing showed no sign of panic.

With a cold snort, a sense of immobilization much more intense than before at the banquet spread out.

The surroundings seemed to freeze in an instant.

Fu Qian found his movements becoming incredibly sluggish, his body nearly petrified.

Worthy of a demigod!

Compared to his intervention at the banquet, this ability had improved significantly.

The power of the Air Bullet would likely be affected to some extent.

Almost instinctively, Fu Qian looked down and saw that Chen Xing did not appear to have been hit.

However, his body was splattered with white frost, and a piercing cold spread out from there.

The extreme cold was so intense, it seemed to solidify the surrounding air, with different colored ice crystals faintly visible.

This is… Fu Qian instantly realized what was happening.

He had just found it odd that the Air Bullet, enhanced by the Mythical Form, had not turned into something like an air cannon.

Now, it seemed, its nature might have changed entirely, adding an effect of extreme cold.

Under the influence of Chen Xing’s ability, the power of the Air Bullet was diminished, but the effect of the extreme cold was indeed conveyed onto him.

The next moment, under Chen Xing’s horrified gaze, Fu Qian felt the immobilizing sensation around him dissipate.

Chen Xing’s waist, starting from the surface of his body, was slowly congealing—clothes, skin, and flesh alike.

Even the surface glinted with shimmering Ice Crystals!

Fu Qian didn’t hesitate to reach out his hand.

His original plan was to prepare for a Visceral Critical Strike, but now he changed his mind, and directly punched the part of Chen Xing that had frozen over.

In almost an instant, the extreme low temperature cracked the skin on his arm.

The next moment, a teeth-grindingly sickening sound of shattering occurred.

Amid the flurry of ice shards, affected by the recoil, Fu Qian’s entire forearm disintegrated.

To one’s relief, the same happened to Chen Xing; there was a ghastly, large hole in his waist.

With the strike succeeding, before Fu Qian had time to take his next action, a bestial roar erupted, and Chen Xing’s body swelled instantaneously.

The hollow space in front of him widened, spreading along the arm and wrapping around it.

The next moment, Fu Qian realized he was in a claustrophobic space.

From all sides, there were ferocious spikes—it felt as if he had fallen into the mouth of a lamprey.

Except, at this moment, each spike was crystal clear, emitting an extreme chill.

This guy’s fighting instincts are not bad!

These are clearly Air Bullets that hadn’t been completely neutralized.

Fu Qian quickly came to his senses.

Using his own tactics against him?

Could it be that your surname was Murong from Gusumu?

Facing the encroaching spikes from all directions, Fu Qian snorted.

Witness my Six Hundred Meridian Divine Sword!

Lifting his head, arching back, extending his arm, bathed in extreme cold, Fu Qian once again activated his Mythical Form.

Tendril Barrage Devastator!

Countless tentacles shot out, confronting the advancing spikes.

Ice shards flew everywhere, and for a moment, Fu Qian thought he saw eyeballs emerge deep within the spikes.

[SAN Points decrease by 1]

At the same time, a notification sounded in his ear.

Damn, you’re definitely not some proper Demigod!

Fu Qian roared inwardly, mysteriously losing a point of SAN Points, on top of the four times he had used Mythical Form before.

This transaction is a huge loss!

The next moment, a silent wail rose in his heart.

The world brightened before his eyes, and Fu Qian found that he was once again seeing daylight.

Phew!

Fu Qian’s first instinct was to quickly survey his surroundings.

Everywhere were limbs and ice chunks he had just shattered, and a few meters away lay a massive, misshapen head.

The latter was about the size of a bathtub, lacking facial features but having several enormous holes filled with dense spikes.

It seems there’s nothing else; it must be this.

Fu Qian walked forward, and stomped down on the faintly twitching head.

In an instant, juice splattered, and hundreds of glistening objects flew out.

Those were a pile of large eyeballs!

Each eyeball had a dark tendril at the end, stretching all the way back into the depths of the head.

I knew it, something was off!

If all Demigods are like this, then that’s really quite disgusting.

Recalling what Deng Feizhou had said before, could this be the price that even Chen Xing didn’t know about?

Fu Qian searched through the bloody mess and quickly found a dark red, radiating stone.

Is this Thorn Blood?

Fu Qian bent down to pick it up.

The stone was crystal clear and still warm to the touch.

As he handled it, the tendrils snapped one by one, the hundreds of eyeballs stopped wriggling, and quickly ruptured and dried up.

The mission still isn’t complete?

Without hearing a prompt, and while Fu Qian wondered, the stone in his palm turned into a cloud of blood mist and surged onto his face.

The next moment, Fu Qian felt a pang in his heart.

He reached up to touch his face and directly plucked off a white mask.

On the left side of the mask, starkly, there was a patch of dark red stain.

[Mission complete, containment of number 3-0177 successful]